


A Decent Enough Birthday. Not a Bad One, Nor the Worst Ever.

by Tish



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Birthday Fluff, Gen, Honey, LIttleBirthday, Slice of Cake, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21788497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tish/pseuds/Tish
Summary: Dec 14th marks Lt. Edward Little's birthday. Hip, hip, hooray!
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	A Decent Enough Birthday. Not a Bad One, Nor the Worst Ever.

Waking up in a stationary ship was something Edward hated. Waking up in an ice-bound ship was even worse, for at least a ship in port, or at anchor would move again soon. With the winter ice building up around them, Edward glumly knew they'd be stuck in for the season.

He reluctantly pulled the blanket from his face and looked up at the darkness, remembering the sun wouldn't creep over the horizon for many weeks to come. He rolled over and let his eyes adjust to the line of light coming from under the door, then turned the screw on the lamp so some light filled his cabin. He hesitated, then turned the lamp higher, knowing that anyone on watch duty above would appreciate the tiny bit of extra light filtering up through the prism.

His pocket-watch told him he wouldn't need to be up for a little while, so he let his mind drift, idly wondering what breakfast promised. The scent of bread wafted through the slats of his door, and he found himself remembering waking up as a child, smelling the delicious breakfast that'd be cooking.

Visions of platefuls of eggs, bacon and sausages swam through Edward's mind, and his stomach rumbled in protest. With a scowl, he looked at the time again, deciding to get up.

Halfway through washing his face, there was a soft knock on his door, and Jopson's voice came through.“Sir, would you like some hot water?”

Edward slid open the door, seeing the steward with a jug. “No, no, this is fine. Were you serving breakfast already?”

“The Captain's, yes. I'll get you some, too, if you'll go ahead,” Jopson said smoothly.

Over Jopson's shoulder, Edward saw Crozier go into the wardroom. “Jopson, I'll have breakfast in here with the birthday boy.”

Edward was stunned. “Is that _today_?”

“It is, indeed,” Jopson replied with a smile as he followed the two officers. “A very happy birthday to you, sir.”

Edward sat down opposite Crozier, muttering his thanks as Jopson brought over the tea and the toast rack, then set down a small bowl of golden-yellow marmalade in the middle of the table. “Before he went on early watch duty, Lieutenant Irving asked me to serve you the rest of his marmalade. A birthday treat.”

“His favourite? He really shouldn't have,” Edward said, turning his sad-eyed gaze to Jopson.

“He says you can treat him to your apricot jam later,” Jopson said. “Now, I'll see how the cook's getting on, if sirs don't mind.”

Crozier lifted his teacup and gently said, “Edward, here's to you, and may you have many a happy birthday.”

Edward lifted his own cup in return, making a silent wish for the ice to break and the Passage to be found.

Hodgson entered the wardroom just as Jopson returned with the food, George's eyes wide with anticipation. “Good morning, Captain. Morning, Edward!”

Edward chuckled to himself as George stared longingly at the food as Jopson served Crozier first, then him. As he waited, George took solace in the toast, savouring the marmalade he'd slathered over it.

As they dined, Edward basked in the warmth of friendship and easy conversation. He'd had worse birthdays, and with an luck, his next one would be spent sailing hard, or even at home.

***

After an initial round of birthday greetings from the men, the rest of the day went like any other, with routine drudge-work to do to keep everything ship-shape. On deck, Edward kept an eye on the dark, cloudless sky and the gracefully sweeping curtains of aurorae, thankful for the moments of tranquillity the displays provided whenever his unstated worries and fears started to pile up.

***

“Dr. McDonald sends his regrets, the sick bay is busier than usual tonight,” Jopson said as Crozier entered to again dine with his officers.

Soon enough, a good selection of wine and spirits flowed, along with the good cheer. Mr. Blanky came in the wardroom late, complaining about the ice, but brightening as soon as Jopson handed over a drink with his meal.

The volume and pace of conversation brought the wardroom to a buzz, and Blanky's laugh set the mood for everyone.

As the dinner plates were cleared away, Edward noticed a nod from Crozier, and he turned just in time to see Jopson disappear after Gibson. Any significance of the gesture was forgotten as Irving poured him some more wine, and George launched into another rambling anecdote.

A cake was unobtrusively laid upon the table and Edward gasped, “is that honey cake? It's my absolute favourite!”

“Yes, sir,” Jopson answered. “I hope it makes a satisfactory birthday cake.”

“Wait, it's your birthday?” Hodgson asked, incredulous, and a little tipsy. “Why did nobody tell me? Nobody ever tells me anything!”

An equally tipsy Irving leant over and stage-whispered to him. “George, it's Edward's birthday. Today. Now.”

“And it'll be his birthday again this time next year,” Blanky added, tapping his nose.

With a gleam in his eyes, Crozier took the knife from Jopson and offered it to Edward. “I think a slice or two should be in order. Happy birthday, Edward!”

As the officers and Jopson echoed the Captain's call, Edward sank the knife into the cake, lifting his eyes to watch the other men.

 _Yes, this could certainly be said to be a good birthday. A decent enough birthday. Not a bad one, nor the worst ever_ , Edward contentedly thought to himself as Jopson discreetly took the knife to serve everyone a slice.

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday greetings to Matthew McNulty, too!


End file.
